This Is Not My Idea
by Whatever666
Summary: Malik and Ryou love their yamis. But even they need some alone time. So they hatched a plan set up Marik and Bakura so they'll leave them alone! Will the plan work? Or will it blow up in their faces?[Slash, BakuraMarik][Rated for swearwords]
1. Chapter 1

Note: This is inspired by This Is My Idea-Marik and Bakura by NephthysAmaya. The link is here http:// www. youtube. com/ watch?v qhwMtJSnFA4, only without the spaces.

**Also, I'm trying to put as much as possible from the lyrics of the song. So if something sounds a bit off-character, blame the lyrics.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me. Nothing. Except the lighter.**

**Malik-Hikari**

**Marik-Yami**

**Ryou-Hikari**

**Bakura-Yami**

**---------------------------------------------------**

"I can't believe I'm stuck with him all weekend," grumbled Bakura. It was Saturday morning, and instead of being outside, terrorizing innocents, he was stuck inside. Waiting for his hikari's friend's yami, Marik, to arrive and spend the weekend. "I'll bet he doesn't murder, torture or do anything worthwhile."

He glared at his hikari as Ryou practically floated into the room. "Remind me, why am I doing this again?"

"If you don't, I'm stealing all of your knifes and pointy things."

"Oh, yeah," Bakura said, muttering none-too-pleasant curses at Ryou. He was lying on the couch, staring out the window. It was a beautiful day. Sun was shining, birds were singing. It was a perfect day for stealing. "I hate you."

Ryou didn't reply, instead choosing to look over Bakura critically. "You look horrible. Your hair's messy, your clothes are torn and I don't even want to know what's on your face. What happened?"

Bakura shifted guiltily. In truth, he was so mad at Ryou, he picked out the worst clothes he had, dragged his head on the ground and even looked in their refrigerator.

"Nothing happened," he said.

"Well, go clean up. Marik will be here soon."

"No. Why should I care what that motherfucker thinks?"

"Knifes."

"I'm going, I'm going. Ra."

-------------------------------------------

Marik grumbled as he held on to his hikari, in the backseat of his motorcycle. He was being taken to meet some friend of Malik's friend. He was being forced to meet some jerk or asshole or something, and stay for the entire weekend.

"I hate you, Malik," he muttered. Malik finished screaming "UP YOURS, FUCKER!!!", and then rolled his eyes.

"Don't, Marik. You know this is for your own good, right?"

"How is this for my own good?"

"Well, if you didn't agree, I'd have taken your lighter, and you know how you get all psycho and go on a killing rage without it."

"But WHY do I have to go to this crap, anyway?"

"Oh, look, we're here!" Malik exclaimed. They pulled up to the driveway of an ordinary looking house. If you ignored the blood splattered walls, the decaying plants, and the doll heads sticking on spikes along the edges of the driveway. 

They walked up to the front door, Marik carefully avoiding the animal skeletons. Malik took extra delight in crushing them, though. They stood in front of the front door. Marik started glaring at it, in order to be ready to glare at whoever opened the door. Malik rolled his eyes again, and pressed the doorbell.

_Ding! _It rang. From the inside, Marik could hear shouting and _"I ain't getting that shit, shithead!" _Finally, a few moments later, a white haired boy opened the door and smiled.

"Hey, Malik," he said. Marik turned up his glare a couple of notches, until it was at 'death glare'. The boy looked at him, shivered, and then smiled.

"And that's Marik," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock," Marik said. "How did you figure that out? It's not like we've ever met before, or I kicked your ass at a duel, or me and Malik were the only ones expected."

The boy ignored him, instead choosing to talk to Malik. "Bakura's right inside. Come on in!"

They grabbed their bags and went in. Inside, there were some burn marks and blood everywhere, but otherwise, it was completely normal.

Bakura was sitting on the couch. He was playing some sort of video game, where he was blasting zombies mindlessly. He looked a lot like the boy who answered the door, only more dangerous and insane. He grunted in greeting.

'He looks conceited,' Marik thought in disgust. He sat down on a chair, not even bothering to grunt in greeting, and started flicking his lighter, on and off. On and off. He was soon captivated by it.

Ryou and Malik stood looking helplessly at their yamis completely ignoring each other. They needed to get their attention. But how?

Malik went to his yami and waved his hand in front of his face. "Marik. Come on, show some manners."

Marik glared at him. "When have I ever shown that shit?"

"You'll start now. Come on, say hi to Bakura!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"If I do, will you shut the hell up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"Fine!" Marik stood up and proceeded to aim his 'death glare' at Bakura, who was also standing up and glaring at him.

"What a total bummer," Bakura said. Marik just glared more. 

'If I get lucky I'll get sick all weekend,' they both thought. Bakura went back to blasting zombies, and Marik started flicking his lighter on and off again. Malik and Ryou rolled their eyes.

"Lighter," Malik said. "Pointy things," Ryou added. Bakura and Marik both snapped their heads up and glared at their hikaris. Then, they glared at each other. 

"So happy you could come," Bakura said stiffly, sounding like he meant the opposite of what he said. 

"So happy to be here," Marik said, disgust evident in his voice. Malik and Ryou looked satisfied, and Marik and Bakura went back to video games and fire respectively.

'How I'd like to run,' they both thought.

"Well, we're going up to my room," said Ryou. "Don't kill anyone."

"No blowing up stuff or setting stuff on fire," Malik added.

"No Shadow Realm at all."

"No rituals."

"No creeping anyone out."

"Have fun!" And with that, Malik and Ryou went up the stairs, carefully avoiding the broken steps. The second they left, Marik and Bakura started glaring at each other.

"This is not my idea," Marik muttered, just as Bakura said "This isn't my idea".

They both said "Of fun."

After about an hour of playing video games and with a lighter, Bakura had the most genius idea. He'd annoy that asshole with his plan!

Careful to look inconspicuous, Bakura started edging closer and closer to Marik. The tomb keeper didn't notice, too captivated with his 'toy'. Suddenly, Bakura screamed "The Pharaoh! What are you doing here?!"

When Marik spun around to see 'the Pharaoh', Bakura quickly snatched the black lighter.

"What are you talking about?" Marik said, still not noticing. "The piece of shi-"

Suddenly he noticed. Bakura was throwing the lighter up and down, up and down, smirking sadistically. Marik looked like he was about to spazz out.

"Give me my lighter, you motherfucking dumbass," Marik said, too calmly for Bakura's liking. Bakura just smirked wider, and said "What will you give me?"

"I'll spare your life…for now."

"No deal, dipshit," Bakura said. He had a feeling that if he smirked anymore, his head would explode. "As if you could stick a knife in me."

He turned the lighter over in his hand, making sure Marik was watching it, when he flicked it on.

When later recalling it, he would admit that that was the precise second Marik snapped.

-------------------------------------------------

Ryou and Malik were upstairs, having lots of fun. Malik was pelting the neighbour's house with eggs, and Ryou was trying to dissuade him. It was awesome there, without their yamis.

They stopped when they heard the bangs and screams of pain and rage. They just stood there, listening quietly to the noises. Finally, with a final yelp and another scream of pain, it became eerily quiet. Malik spoke first.

"I bet you anything Bakura stole Marik's lighter, and Marik freaked out and went on a psychotic frenzy."

"Yeah," Ryou said, sighing. "They're quite a handful, aren't they?"

"Uh huh."

"I mean, I'd never give away Bakura, but he drives me insane."

"And that's why we have this plan! Duh, Ryou, how idiotic can you get?"

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, when suddenly, more screams broke out. There was the sound of a wall breaking, and something about a Shadow Realm. They both winced.

"The children seem to get along quite nicely," Ryou said despairingly.

"We'll join our houses if this arrangement clicks," Malik said wisely.

"My dear Malik," Ryou said, fake snobby, "That's my point precisely."

"We're such good friends," Malik grinned.

"And we'll get more than a few seconds alone!" Ryou seemed delighted.

"So happy we agree," he added after a few seconds. He couldn't stop grinning.

"I think we've got a deal," Malik said. He was happy that Marik was going in a relationship, and would leave him alone.

"Bakura's quite a catch," Ryou smirked his evil-reckless-time-of-my-life smirk. 

"This is my idea," Malik announced proudly. 

"No, this is MY idea," Ryou frowned.

"Of a match!" They both announced happily.

---------------------------------

**R and R!**


	2. Weekend 2

**Disclaimer: Nothing and no one belongs to me, except Nashwa the lighter, and the insult 'lamp shit'.**

**Warning: this story contains slash, pyromania, kleptomania and general psycho-mania.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited or alerted this story! Don't worry, I'm going to write as fast as possible.**

**2**  
"Good heavens, Marik," Malik called out, annoyed. He was waiting outside their house for nearly twenty minutes, and Marik still didn't come out! "Don't dawdle. We can't keep Bakura waiting for long. You know how psycho he gets."

It was the second week from hell, as Marik dubbed it. Last weekend, they went to Bakura's house, to stay for the two days. It was awful.

Bakura was a conceited, fake, holier-than-thou prat. All weekend he just insulted Marik, stole his lighter and acted like Marik was the filthiest filth in the world. And Marik was getting pretty sick of screaming at Bakura.

Still, a week later, here he was again, going to stay at the jerk's house for another whole weekend! Stupid hikari.

"I haven't packed," He called out to Malik. He was using anything as an excuse not to go. "Or washed my hair."

"Since when have you cared about your hair or packing? All you need is a toothbrush, spare clothes and your lighter." Malik rolled his eyes for the millionth time, it seemed.

"But, Malik, I get carsick."

"…"

"…"

"…No you don't," Malik finally said, staring at his yami as if he was insane. Which he was, but that wasn't the point. "It's YOUR motorcycle! You drive it every day! You love it! You drive it for hours! YOU DON'T GET CARSICK!"

"I do if I'm not driving it!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do!"

"Marik, get down here RIGHT NOW, or it will be a repeat of the birthday disaster!"

Marik shivered. Last time, on Malik's birthday, everyone completely forgot. Every. Single. Person.

That was when Malik had a breakdown. He destroyed the house (and they had no insurance- they destroyed the house so many times, every insurance company in Japan rejected them), burned down a museum, screamed and insulted every person he knew to their face, and then tried to kill them. He tried to shoot Marik. That was not a fun day.

"I'M COMING!"

----------------------------

"He soon will be arriving," Ryou said, sticking his head into Bakura's room. Bakura growled at the complete invasion of his privacy. Honestly, he was throwing knifes at Marik's picture, and Ryou surprised him! How unsafe. 

"Is that respect you're showing," Ryou added. He frowned at Marik's knife covered picture. It was pinned over top the Pharaoh's picture! That was unusual.

"If you make me be polite to him, I swear I'm gonna be sick," Bakura scowled at Ryou. Ryou just rolled his eyes and said "Get changed, or no knifes."

"I hate you."  
--------------------------------------------

Bakura hated Marik. Hated, hated, hated. He hated him almost as much as the Pharaoh and his cronies. Which was freaky, in its own way.

Duke was over, for the weekend. Bakura invited him, in order to not be bored all weekend. The plan was sadly failing, though. Although neither he nor Duke were bored, there was a problem; Marik.

'We've tried all weekend but we just can't lose him,' thought Bakura as he ran as fast as he could. He glanced behind him. Nope, still on their trail. Marik did look sorta pretty, though, running behind them.

…He did not just think that.

Marik was running behind his number two enemies, for only one reason; he was bored. He could careless what they were doing, but he was bored, and they were his only entertainment. Go figure.

'Wait up," he thought to himself, knowing it to be futile to yell. Futile…such a nice word. "RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" he screamed. He liked screaming these kinds of things, and the _looks_ he got made it all the more worthwhile. 

"Quick, put on some speed!" Duke whisper-screamed. They ran faster, running left, right, ducking into this alleyway, that alleyway, doubling back, running through antique shops (and in the space of two seconds breaking nearly a million dollars worth of artefacts), saying "Hi!" to the Pharaoh, waving at the police officers (who Bakura all knew by name, because each arrested him around twenty times), until, finally, they got to a random tent they had once put up for such emergencies.

They stood there, panting, but not saying a word, in case Marik heard them. Finally, when they deemed it was safe, they sat down.

Duke took out his dice and started playing with them. Bakura just glared at nothing in particular.

"He sucks at running," Duke said absentmindedly. He tossed his dice at a random plant.

"He does. When picking teams, I'd never choose him," Bakura scowled. Then, he fell silent, and smiled. He was having a vision of him impaling Marik with a firepoker, his millennium ring, a dagger…Niiiiice.

"Or friends," Duke added. He got up to pick up his dice.

"Huuuh?" Bakura was now contemplating setting Marik on fire.

"Never mind," Duke said, and then they fell silent. A few minutes later, they heard Marik running up to the tent. How did they hear him? Did they have super-sonic hearing, perhaps? Or were they listening very intensely? Neither. They heard him tripping over stuff, swearing, people screaming, and him shouting "GO TO HELL, ASSHOLE!" and then a man shouting "GO FUCK YOURSELF, YOU LAMP SHIT!"

"I'm guessing that's Marik," Duke hazarded a guess.

"However did you figure it out, dumbass?" Bakura seethed. He always seethed whenever Marik was around, or they were talking about him, or when he wasn't around…Hell, Bakura almost always seethed.

Marik burst into the tent. "FREEZE!" he shouted. That was another phrase he always wanted to use. Two phrases in one day!

Bakura and Duke scrambled to their feet, and started glaring down the psycho Tomb Robber. He glared back, used to glaring contests.

"Go. The. Hell. Away," Bakura hissed. He bared his teeth, looking startlingly cat-like. Marik just smirked.

"Or what? You'll propose with your ring?" He said. That was a scary thought, though. Bakura growled more, and Marik almost expected him to flip his hand and go "Mrrrow!". Almost.

"And what can you do? Hobble around on your walking stick? Ooh, I'm so scared! The old man is going to get me!" Bakura said, ignoring the fact that he was WAAAAAAAAAAAAY older than Marik. "And perhaps you'll light a cigarette with your lighter! That would really take the cake, yeah?"

'This really isn't fair,' Marik thought. They could trash him, his friends, his life, his possessions, but they couldn't trash his Rod or Nashwa, his lighter! (He spent many hours thinking of a name for her, but finally decided on Nashwa, which meant 'Wonderful Feeling' in Egyptian. He had only wonderful feelings with her)

"Okay. You assholes have two options," he said, slowly and clearly. He was getting an idea "Either you serve me for however long my hikari is going to be insane, or else." He said the 'or else' diabolically, insanely and with just the right amount of drama and sneering.

Bakura and Duke looked at each other, and smirked. "We really couldn't care. It's not like you can do anything, lamp shit."

"Boys, it's all or none," Marik said mockingly. "This is not my idea of fun." 

"Oh, really?"

"This is," and with that, Marik flicked on his lighter, and set the tent on fire. "Pretty light…ooh…pretty lights…" He stared, hypnotized at the tent, and the two people inside, who were running around and screaming. Who were they again?

Who cared? They were insignificant compared to the pretty fire. It was mesmerizing, hypnotizing. Nothing in all the world could compare to it. He reached out his hand and tried to touch it.

"Ouch," he whispered, drawing his hand back, because talking was forbidden in the face of the flickering lights. He looked back at the figures. They were both screaming in pain, and one had his hair on fire.

It was the prettier one. He had pale skin, which reflected beautifully the red and yellow of the pretty lights. Mesmerized, Marik reached out to touch it. The pretty guy stared back at him, giving him a 'wtf' look. Marik wasn't deterred.

"Pretty."

That was when the guy finally said something. Marik didn't listen. Guy said something else. By that point, Marik was stroking the Guy's pretty, pretty face. It was all red and sweaty from the fire and pain. Then, Guy reached out and slapped him.

"Ouch!" Marik snapped back to reality. He glared. "What the hell was that for?"

"You were being all weird and spaced out! And this," he swung his fist with all his might at Marik's nose. It broke with a sickening snap. "Is for setting the tent on fire."

"I hate you," Marik ignored the fact that he was _practically _stroking Bakura's face. He grabbed Nashwa and ran. If he got arrested _one more time_, he was facing death by Isis's hands.

"I hate you too, you pyro," Bakura said, knowing the 'pyro' as the only explanation for Marik's _practically _stroking him.

**R and R!**


	3. Weekend 3

**A/N: Sorry for not updating for so long. Got busy reading fanfics and stuff.**

**Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh does not belong to me, and never will. Has anyone else noticed the freakiness of Yugi's GIGANTIC eyes?**

**-----------------------------------------**

**3.**

"Please."

"No."

"Please."

"No." 

"Please."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Please?"

"For the last time, Marik, we are going STRAIGHT to Ryou's, no stops, just straight to Ryou's."

"But I even said please! You KNOW I never say please!"

"Oh…all right," Malik rolled his eyes. "You're really spoiled, you know."

"I know! Aren't my manipulative powers great?"

"…"

"…And I also have the nicest hikari in the world!" Marik grinned. He _always _got everything he wanted.

"Well, we have to leave early if we have to go to the store. Why do you need another lighter, anyway?" Malik asked, putting on his favourite leather jacket.

Sadly, the leather jacket didn't have long to live; Malik once killed a guy who had AIDS, and his jacket got splattered with the AIDS guy's blood. And, as everyone knows, if you get AIDS blood, you get infected. Well, Isis said if she saw the bloody jacket one more time, she'd shred it to pieces.

"Didn't I tell you that already?" Marik was back to his bossy, psycho persona. "Nashwa needs a friend." …Or maybe not.

"O…kay…" Malik blinked. Once, twice, thrice! A new record. He got on the motorcycle. "Got all your stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go!"

And Marik had the explicable urge to bang his head against something; stuck with Bakura for the third weekend. Damn.

-----------------------------------

Bakura coughed. He was burning up, and his throat was hurting. He couldn't raise his arms.

"Ryou…is that you?" he said feebly when his hikari came into the room. He coughed weakly in his hand, on the verge of death. "Come…closer…"

Ryou inched closer to Bakura, and then slapped him. Immediately, a miracle occurred and Bakura was healed enough to say "OW! What the hell was that for!"

"Stop pretending to be dying!" Ryou said. "Marik's going to come in a couple of hours." Sometimes Ryou thought this plan was more trouble than it was worth.

"No. I can't stand that asshole! Duke is now afraid to come over any weekend. And he lit my tent on fire!" Bakura threw his hands up in exasperation.

Ryou raised an eyebrow. "You have a tent?"

"Had, thanks to the dumbass!" Bakura fumed, all traces of illness lost. Ryou made a funny half sigh, half snort sound.

"Knives."

"Fine, but I'm calling Duke. Ra, I hate that motherfucking Marik."

A couple of hours later, a knock came on the door. Bakura scowled at the prospect of spending another 48 hours with He-Who-Is-Too-Unimportant-To-Be-Named, Hwitutbn for short.

He heard Ryou open the door and greet them. He heard Marik's voice, but it was somewhat more…bouncy?…than he had ever heard it. "What the hell?" he muttered.

He got his answer soon, as Marik came literally bouncing in the room. He raised an eyebrow.

"The hell, Hwitutbn?" He said. Marik blinked at the Hwitutbn comment, but then bounced on.

"I have a new lighter," he sung out, shoving the lighter into Bakura's face. Bakura had a horrible flashback of the tent burning down. "His name is Nebtawi, and he kicks ass!"

Bakura just stared. Since when had Marik become so…childish?

--------------------

"What's the emergency?" Duke said, glaring at Bakura. Bakura could understand. They were in the park, swinging on the swings. Marik was currently running around, scaring children and making mothers look at him with horror.

"He tries to talk me into playing dress-up!" Bakura said indignantly. Duke snorted, imagining Bakura in a sparkly pink dress and high heels. Bakura glared. "What?!?!?!"

"Erm…Nothing…"Duke sweatdropped. At least he wasn't glaring anymore. They watched in silence as Marik tried to set a tree on fire. Luckily for the tree, though, a policeman was just walking by.

They watched as the policeman came running up and flashed his badge at Marik. "He's busted now," commented Bakura. But…

Marik leaned closer to the policeman. His eyes looked wide and frightened. He looked innocent, getting closer and closer to the policeman. The policeman look as though he was in a trance, when suddenly- "ouch!" and the policeman was lying on the ground, unconscious, with a head wound bleeding on to Marik's clothes.

"No way," Duke shook his head. "Did he just kill that policeman?"

"I don't believe it," Bakura said, his face darkening. "He's always flirting with everyone!"

Duke stared. Was Bakura jealous?

"I think you really sorta like him, 'fess up," he said.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Marik and Bakura, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up."

"Who's K-I-S-S-I-N-G?" Marik came up to them. He was grinning, and in an obviously good mood. He kept talking without waiting for the answer. "So, anyone up for a duel?"

---------------

"Fuck," Bakura swore under his breath, watching sadly as his last life points disappeared. Marik was smirking victoriously.

"I'd like him better if he'd lose at cards," he told Duke, who was watching the game nearby.

"You suck," Marik said, his voice a mixture of disgust and awe. "I mean, you _really_ suck. I've never met someone who sucks as much at you."

"Shut up."

"Seriously. I don't know how the hell you're still alive, you suck so much."

"Shut _up_."

"Dicey too. I've won against him seven times, and I've won against you ten times. And I wasn't even paying attention. Seriously, you suck."

"That's it, we're having a rematch."

---------------------------------

"Do you know what this card means?"

"….."

"This little card here? Do you know what it means?"

"…Yes."

"I think I've won again," Marik said superiorly. He sat down on a park bench and grinned the grin of a cat who just ate a particularly juicy rat.

Bakura glared. "Every time he's won!" he told Duke. "He's fucking cheating, I'm sure of it!"

"So get a rematch."

"Yo, ass-hole, we're playing again!" Bakura yelled at Marik. Marik grinned again and jumped up.

"Awesome! I love kicking your ass!" He got out his deck of cards again, and muttered to himself, "This is my idea-"

"This isn't my idea-"Bakura said to Duke, who was falling asleep.

"Of fun." 

(Even though Bakura would never, ever, ever admit it to anyone, least of all himself, he did, sort of, not really, have fun with Marik)


	4. Interval

I'm really, really sorry I didn't update…I had a lot of stuff going on, and then I was too lazy…Anyways, thanks to all the beautiful people who read my story! Especially the person who MADE the video, it made me so happy!

**R & R!**

**-----**

Seto Kaiba was, usually, not one to care about other people and whatever the hell they were doing, as long as it didn't affect him, his brother, or Kaiba Corp.

This, however, wasn't an exception. He heard from Mokuba, who heard from Joey, who heard from Tristan, who heard from Duke, who heard from Ryou that Bakura and Marik were getting together. Naturally, Kaiba's first instinct was to run around screaming with joy and happiness. But, being the CEO of the largest company on Earth, he didn't.

Why was he so happy that 2 complete psychos were starting to screw? He made a mental list. (Kaiba loved making lists; it was his passion. Once, a guy got him into bed with a simple list of reasons why they should get together):

1. It'll save him much stress; because, if ever there is a tournament or something, one of them will be there, torturing, and murdering, and generally being insane.

2.It'll save him money. If they'll be busy together, perhaps they'll stop asking for funding towards starting an international company, running for president or stuff like that.

3. It'll save him money.

4. No more stress.

5. He could watch it all blow up in their faces, which could be moderately amusing.

6. They were two complete psychos who want to take over the world; he wanted to know if they would become 'romantic', and 'lovey-dovey'; and, failing that, other things he could use as blackmail.

You got to admit it. It was not a bad list he was building up.

--------------

Malik and Ryou were sitting in someone's room. Who, they had no idea. Judging by the black and pink walls, posters of Jesse McCartney and Hillary Duff, stuffed teddies and pictures of a cute boy with lipstick marks all over it, it was probably a teenage girl. Ryou was absentmindedly hugging a pillow shaped like a pair of lips, and Malik was using the girl's makeup to make himself look prettier.

He held up his hand, where glittery lilac nail polish…glittered… on his nails. "Does this bring out my eyes?"

Ryou sweatdropped. All of his best friends were insane. "Yeah, sure." He refrained from adding "Whatever," for politeness' sake.

"Anyway," Malik continued, chewing his lip as he carefully applied nail polish to his other hand. "Remember our plan?"

"Which one?" Ryou asked. He saw what he was hugging, squeaked and dropped it. "Ew, that's _lips_. Is it the museum one, the president of America one, the World War III one or the Bakura and Marik one?"

"The Bakura and Marik one. Although, about the museum one, I can't make it this night, me and Marik are planning a shadow duel with the Pharaoh, and he's planning to spend the night after that partying. How about Thursday?"

"Nah, no good. Bakura's planning to get drunk then, and I need to bail him out of jail. So, what about Bakura and Marik?"

"Well…" Malik shifted uncomfortably. He waved his hands a bit to dry the nail polish. "Marik doesn't seem to enthused about it. Actually, he's been bitchin' and bitchin' and bitchin' non-stop. What if he doesn't go for the dating? I don't want to force him."

Ryou sighed. In truth, it was bothering him as well. Bakura was starting to like Marik (as a fellow psycho to torture and maim innocent people), but so far, nothing more. "Urge him. Just try. And either way, at least they'll become friends."

Malik swore under his breath as he accidentally messed up the nail polish. "Uh, no. Friends is bad. Friends is putting all their half-baked insane ideas together to make fully baked insane ideas. Then the point of our plan would be-"

They froze, and stared at each other. "What WAS the point of our plan?" Ryou finally asked.

"…I have no idea." They stared at each other, then simultaneously shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Screw it."

"Let's just force them to go through one more weekend, and that's it," Ryou said, then yelped, finding himself clutching, once more, the lip shaped pillow.

"Which glitter should I use; the dark gold, or the lighter gold shade?" Malik asked, holding up the glitter. Ryou sweatdropped once more.

Fifteen minutes later, Cassie Jones came home from her homecoming dance to find the room wrecked, her posters written over (with nice phrases like "THIS BAND SUCKS" and "SCREW THEM, THEY FUCKED ME OVER**TWICE**!") and her favourite lip-shaped pillow GONE.  
---------------------------

Marik smirked sexily, and brought up a hand to 'subconsciously' play with his hair.

"Wanna come over to my place, babe?" his acquaintance drawled, while flicking his cigarette ash towards a random person's eyes, who screamed in pain and started writhing in agony on the floor.

"Can't; partying tonight. How 'bout next week?"

"A'igh," Jason leaned in and kissed Marik on the lips for a few seconds. "Kill a few innocent bystanders fo' me, will ya?"

"Like always, you bastard," Marik smirked and punched Jason playfully. He grabbed a shot of vodka, and chugging it, made for the exit. That is, until he crashed into a certain somebody with snowy white hair.

"Bitch," he spat at her, and pushed her to the floor. He continued on his way to the door, unhindered besides the countless people he stepped on, shoved, spat on, fought briefly and/or traded e-mails with; finally he stepped out of the door. Or would have, if he hadn't crashed into a certain person whose name started with 'B', ended with 'A' and had "Akur" in between.

They stared each other down, neither of them saying a word. "What the_hell_ are you doing here?" Marik finally ventured.

"What do you think, dumbass?" Bakura scoffed. "Who was the green haired s.o.b?"

"A friend."

"Do your friends usually try to eat your lips?"

"Go fuck yourself," Marik said. "What the hell _are_you doing here?"

"This is a bloody bar, you pyro," Bakura snarled, and Marik got the usual warm, fuzzy feeling he got whenever somebody called him 'pyro', 'pyromaniac', 'psycho' or 'bastard'.

"Thanks," he said, probably confusing the thief, but not caring at all. He suddenly got an idea. He stared at Bakura, and grinned, cocking his head. "Tell me something. Have you ever been to a _party_before?"

"A party? Hell yeah."

"Not a party. A _party_," Marik smirked. Bakura looked confused.

"A_party_?"

"Fuck yeah," Marik grinned. "All you need to have is some alcohol, chips, and some strobe lights. Meet me at the park at midnight. And lose the ring, will ya? Unless you want it to be lost."

Bakura just blinked.

--------------------------------------------

Midnight. The moon was shining, the owls were hooting and Marik was standing there waiting for Bakura.

"Asshole," he muttered under his breath. He picked up the cases of sake and cognac, and the chips, feeling oddly disappointed.

He hadn't even taken four steps when he heard the obnoxious voice he'd been waiting for.

"Hey, not leaving yet, are you, dumbass?"

Marik smirked and turned around. "So you came, did you? And here I thought you'd chicken out. Brought the stuff?"

Bakura showed him the five or so bags of chips, three cases of vodka and beer, and eight battery operated strobe lights he had on him. Marik sweatdropped. "…Whoah."

And so they got going, with Marik leading the way, Bakura demanding to know where they were going, Marik insulting him, Bakura insulting him back, and so on and so forth until they got there.

"We're here!" Marik announced. "Finally." Bakura muttered, but Marik shot him a glare and ignored him. He looked at the building in front of him with pride. Besides him, Bakura was finally figuring out where they were.

"Are we where I think we are?" Bakura asked. Marik rolled his eyes.

"No, we're in the wonderful land of Oz." He remembered Malik force-reading the book to him. It was the most horrible torture he's ever experienced.

He should tie up Bakura sometime and torture him with Dorothy and Toto and the wonderful Wizard sometime. Maybe next weekend. He'd tie Bakura up in his basement, where no one ever went, and was filled with tasty rats, in an uncomfortable chair, with his pet weasel who ate human meat, and-

----

Meanwhile, Bakura was trying to get Marik's attention. "Oi!" he yelled right in Marik's ear. Nothing. He slapped him. STILL nothing!

Marik was thrown out of his trance as a rather large bucked of water was upended over his head. "Oi, what the hell? Where the fuck did you get that bucket of water?"

"I'm bloody magic," Bakura rolled his eyes. Marik rolled his eyes too. "But, seriously, why are we at the Pharoah's and midget's house?"

They were, as stated, at Yami's and Yugi's house. Or, more specifically, in his backyard, crouching along the lawn ornaments, like stupid dwarves and pink flamingos.

Wait…if they were in a backyard, weren't lawn ornaments in the back yard, technically, back yard ornaments?

Marik sat down and pondered this. Logically, they _should_be called back yard ornaments, but, of course, their _official_name is lawn ornaments, so-

Bakura growled deep in his throat. Marik was out of it again! He was so annoying…it was cute, though.

Wait, what-

"Who's there?" a voice came from the back door. It opened a bit, letting out a crack of light. Marik and Bakura froze, and stared at the starfish shaped hair of the midget.

Bakura blinked, having no idea as for what to do. Why were they even there?

R & R!


End file.
